


Bad

by Semebay



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:30:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semebay/pseuds/Semebay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP, somewhat based on the intro song to True Blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad

**Author's Note:**

> Original Publication Date: August 27, 2010

 

 

There was something almost hypnotizing in the way Arthur talked, something that reached out to Alfred and demanded his attention. That “something” wasn't _only_ in the way he talked, however. In fact, it was present in everything the Brit did.

 

Take this moment, for instance. Alfred picked at the rice on his plate, his fork clinking against the white china plate which held his food. He tried not to stare at the way Arthur drank his wine, long fingers grasping the stem of the glass delicately, raising the rim to his lips. He had long ago noticed the unease that Arthur felt when Alfred stared at him, especially in the States. People tended to talk there, so prejudiced for or against different rights. Arthur had never liked the looks cast towards them in public, and so the gazes had stopped.

 

But that didn't stop Alfred's mind from working. In fact, the lack of attention made his affections and urges even _stronger_ than usual. Arthur looked up from his wine and Alfred turned his eyes back to his plate, surprised that he had let himself slip.

 

Though honestly, it wasn't _really_ a surprise. When your lover/significant other/boyfriend/life partner/whatever was sitting across from you, sipping almost daintily from a glass of wine, wiping his mouth and fingers on the silver cloth napkins, wouldn't _everyone_ feel the need to look? Hell, people that didn't look were probably in it for... Actually, Alfred couldn't find a reason _not_ to look. Not looking at someone like Arthur was criminal. And Alfred knew all about criminal (it was a story he didn't want to talk about).

 

“Hey, Arthur?” Alfred chanced, but the look that Arthur sent him silenced him in an instant. He simply smiled at the scowl, his mind running a mile a minute; he shifted in his seat at the thoughts, trying to ignore the burning deep within him. He wanted (needed) to leave with Arthur, _now._

 

But when Arthur slowly cut into the steak on his plate, Alfred had to silence his groan at the realization that he wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

 

 

* * *

 

“That was a nice place,” Arthur admitted when Alfred pulled into the driveway and parked the car. “We should go there again.”

 

“Yeah,” Alfred mumbled, but he wasn't paying attention. He stared at his hands and swallowed, clenching and unclenching his hands around the steering wheel. Arthur was pulling at the door handle and freeing himself from the confines of the vehicle, and then cleared his throat pointedly in an effort to get Alfred up and moving.

 

“I don't have my key,” Arthur reminded him, and Alfred nodded before shoving open his door. Arthur waited while Alfred gathered himself and sorted his keys, sticking the piece of metal into the lock and turning. He grumbled under his breath while he played with the lock, jingling the keys and cursing the time it took to unlock the deadbolt.

 

“Don't look at me like that,” Arthur snapped when Alfred looked back at him. “I told you to fix it weeks ago. It's not my fault you keep procrastinating.”

 

Alfred seriously considered kicking the door open, and then the key turned and he stumbled into his house. Arthur chuckled at the sight and followed Alfred inside, hanging his jacket on a hook by the door. Alfred relocked the deadbolt and looked over his shoulder at Arthur, who was sighing and leaning against the counter.

 

“I'm tired,” Arthur told him, and Alfred frowned. “You must be, too. You've been off all day.”

 

“I haven't been “off” all day,” Alfred protested weakly, wondering how quickly he could convince Arthur to go upstairs to the bedroom to not-sleep.

 

“Well, ever since you checked your e-mail this morning,” Arthur told him. Then Arthur was up the stairs, and Alfred could hear him walking to the bathroom. The water ran, and Alfred swallowed. His hands hesitated before hitting the light switch and turning off the lights. Then he yanked off his shoes and hurried up the stairs, fighting to pull off his jacket mid-stride and almost missing a step. He luckily made it to the top of the stairs, and then he dashed into the bedroom where he knew Arthur would (most likely) wander after brushing his teeth.

 

Alfred's prediction was proven correct when, only moments later, Arthur turned off the water and started towards the bedroom, most likely to see if Alfred was ready to go to sleep. Alfred was clicking through things on his laptop, and Arthur frowned.

 

“It's almost midnight, you _must_ be tired!” Arthur grumbled, and Alfred looked up. There was a moment of hesitation, but Alfred left the laptop at Arthur's look, and he ran out of the bedroom and to the bathroom. Arthur sighed and shut the lid on the laptop, then began to dig through drawers for clothes to wear to bed. He had changed into shorts and climbed into bed by the time Alfred returned, the lights off and the house bathed in darkness.

 

“Arthur?” Alfred ventured, his stomach still incredibly warm, and his fingers clenching around a small towel. Arthur's only response was to pat the blankets on the bed beside him, and Alfred swallowed. He pulled off the white shirt and let it fall to the ground, then he started towards the bed. Arthur had rolled over, back to him, and Alfred let his suit pants fall before he climbed into bed.

 

Once Alfred was in bed with the object of his desire, he found that any restraint he had exercised before was thrown out the window. He couldn't keep his hands off Arthur, even though the man pushed at his fingers and grumbled obscenities. Alfred pushed back, his fingers finding skin and rubbing, tiny circles on his chest, over the slight ridges of his ribs. Arthur eventually gave in and simply let it happen, shifting his head when Alfred pressed his lips to the other's jaw from behind. Arthur didn't react, and Alfred let his lips wander, to his ear, his neck, his shoulder. At the same time, his hands moved slower, and he made larger circles, his fingers lightly brushing nipples and tickling skin.

 

Arthur was finally moving, shivering, and Alfred almost grinned at the small noises deep in his throat, and how he stretched his legs out and reached back with an arm to grab at Alfred. Alfred moved one hand lower, fingers touching the trail of hair that led down to his groin, and Arthur shivered even more. Arthur didn't notice the hand that had disappeared, nor did he hear the sound of a drawer being opened when Alfred twisted his body.

 

A catch of breath, a whine. Alfred drank in the sounds while he located the lube and condoms in the drawer, and he turned back slowly. He dropped the lube and condoms between them and let his hand return to Arthur, to Arthur's stomach, and below.

 

“Damn it, Alfred,” Arthur hissed, trying to sound angry at the fact that he was being molested despite his want for sleep (he failed miserably).

 

Alfred pressed his lips to the back of Arthur's neck and parted them, letting his tongue press against the skin in a sloppy kiss. He pulled back and Arthur made yet another sound deep in his throat when the cold air hit it. Alfred did it again, and again, and one of his hands brushed Arthur's cock before passing it and moving to his back.

 

“Alfred,” Arthur tried to warn him, but the name came out as a moan and a whine, and Alfred moved his lips to Arthur's earlobe.

 

“ _I wanna do bad things with you._ ”

 

The whisper seemed to send a jolt through Arthur, and Alfred kissed at his ear, struggling to open the bottle between them with a single hand. It took a minute before the cap popped off, but neither noticed the passing time. Alfred was too busy sucking on skin, and Arthur was trying to stop the noises that were escaping his lips, breathless noises that only turned Alfred on even more.

 

The lube felt cold on his hand, and Alfred removed his other hand from Arthur so that he could close the bottle and keep a larger mess from forming. He pressed his hands together and nipped at Arthur's neck, then he parted his hands and rested one on Arthur's hip. The other he moved to Arthur's ass, circling and then _pushing_ into the tight ring. Arthur noticed, as his breath caught, and he tried to look back at Alfred with what would probably have been a glare had he not been so aroused.

 

 _In and out_ , Alfred pushed and sucked, and Arthur reached back for hair, for anything to grip, and when Arthur's hand found Alfred's shoulder, Alfred added a finger and parted them.

 

The sound that Arthur made was amazing and indescribable, and Alfred moved his fingers faster, parting them and scissoring them, in and out, his other hand rubbing Arthur's stomach but staying clear of his cock, not wanting to give him enough stimulation for the release that Arthur yearned for. Arthur muttered under his breath, a long stream of words and curses that really didn't sound like anything, and Alfred pressed in a third and final finger. He removed his other hand to play with the condom, and briefly left Arthur's neck so that he could tear the packet open with his teeth before continuing to suck and nibble.

 

Arthur was impossibly tight in more ways than one. His body was stretched out, his hands gripped whatever they could find, and Alfred slipped the condom on with flourish before popping the cap open again and covering his cock with the lube from within.

 

“ _Ready?_ ” Alfred asked, and didn't wait for Arthur's nod before he removed his fingers from Arthur's ass, and then pressed in with his cock.

 

Arthur choked, and Alfred slowly shifted his position so that Arthur was beneath him. Arthur moved his arms so that he was bracing himself against the bed, and then Alfred thrust.

 

Arthur gasped at the motion, his body hypersensitive, and Alfred thrust again, harder.

 

“ _F-fuck,_ ” Arthur gasped, and Alfred leaned down.

 

“ _Bad things_ ,” Alfred reminded, and he rolled his hips. Arthur whined, and Alfred tried to push deeper, then shallower, trying different rhythms and speeds. Arthur's body tensed with every motion, his back taut and his fingers clenching and unclenching. He whined and moaned, Alfred's name caught between curses and babbles. Alfred pushed again, and Arthur lowered his head, his body shaking with pleasure and arousal.

 

“ _A-Alfred,_ ” Arthur gasped, and Alfred bent slightly to press his lips to the base of Arthur's neck. Alfred didn't speak. He moved a hand to Arthur's cock and brushed it with his fingers, never gripping, only teasing. Arthur trembled with every brush, fisting his hands in the blankets and pillows, and then he attempted to move a hand back to complete the job that Alfred refused to.

 

Except that Alfred was having none of it. Alfred's hand left Arthur's cock and took the hand that Arthur had tried to relieve himself with, pressing it and Arthur's other hand into the bed.

 

“ _You do this to me,_ ” Alfred whispered, and Arthur's breathing became heavy. Alfred used his free hand to grip Arthur's hips, rubbing tiny circles on the skin with his fingers, and he rolled his hips again. “ _Always. So. Fucking. Clueless._ ” Alfred thrust again, and started a steady rhythm, ignoring Arthur's grunts and whines. “ _You. Just you. Always-fucking-you._ ”

 

Arthur ducked his head, and pressed his forehead against the pillow. Alfred took it as a sign to remove his hand from Arthur's, and he trailed his fingers down Arthur's body even as his thrusts became faster. Arthur had begun a mantra of “ _AlfredAlfredAlfred,_ ” and then Alfred shifted his hips and moved _up_ at the same time his hand found Arthur's cock.

 

Arthur jerked, his voice failing him as the world flashed white and black, and his eyes fluttered shut. The tension that had been building released abruptly, and he was gasping and shouting, even as Alfred continued to thrust, panting above him and trembling as Arthur tightened around him. It wasn't a minute later that Alfred tensed and shook as his orgasm took him, and then he collapsed on top of Arthur.

 

The room was filled with their breathing, heavy and slow, and Arthur groaned when Alfred finally pulled back and out. Arthur didn't move except for the rises and falls of his chest, and Alfred carefully slipped the condom off and dropped it in the wastebin. Then he pushed the lube and condom wrapper off the bed, listening to them hit the floor with a dull “thud”.

 

Arthur still didn't move, and Alfred slowly reached for him, pulling up the blankets that had fallen off the bed. “Arthur?” he ventured, but Arthur didn't answer him. He was completely silent, and Alfred had to laugh.

 

“Guess you were tired,” Alfred muttered, and he dropped his head down onto the pillow. “Damn.”


End file.
